Tim Drake, being an ex-Robin, used to be the half of the iconic Batman-Robin duo. Being the intellectual he is, his plans were elaborate but practical and his detective skills were second to the Bat himself. Tim knew that. He knew he was a valued member of the Bat-family, in his Robin tights or in his Red Robin cowl. After leaving the Robin mantle somewhat, he prowled the streets freely, unchained from Batman’s shadow and relatively strict ideals. He wanted to make a name for himself, just like Dick and Jason did.

Being your own hero means finding yourself and making an impression on the civilians—and the villains. Tim’s story and motives regarding his donning of the Robin costume were unconventional by comparison to the other Robins, too. There was no thirst for justice that the prior Robins had, and he felt that he needed to prove himself to Bruce and to the Robin mantle itself. Alfred and Bruce both strengthened him up to take on crime as Robin, but Red Robin, Tim has the weight of all that on his shoulders, and it gets hard not to doubt his abilities.

Luckily, his partner is here for him. Their mere presence heals his fatigue and flesh wounds after a night of patrol. They were qute literally the light of his life; a stable and warm constant he can rely on. A person who's words of courage and advice meant to most to him.

Taking off his cowl after a particularly hard night, he walks into their shared bedroom and strips the sweaty form-fitting fabric suffocating his frame. Slipping into the sheets next to his lover, he sighs, his brow scrunching in irritation. “Man, I screwed up tonight. I could have ended it much easier if I just used a gas bomb and knocked the guy out.” He runs a hand through his hair, his mind clouding in self-doubt. “I need to work on myself.”